I Conquer Hell and Heaven With 666 Trillion Coins

Dean had been resting for days.

Indeed, apart from going to the toilet, he had remained completely still, not moving a muscle.

After this six-day rest period, recommended just in case, he was now able to move about comfortably, and the mental fatigue he’d been feeling had begun to fade, albeit slightly.

There wasn’t really much he needed to do at the moment, but there was definitely one thing he was curious about:

[Spear of Dawn]

According to that commander, whose name he didn’t even know, the weapon... this spear had chosen Dean.

Despite all of Percival’s explanations, Dean had been thinking about the same thing over and over again throughout this entire time.

The young man truly could not remember what had happened.

He wasn’t just saying this offhand or as a joke. Dean, in the truest sense of the word, could not remember anything that had happened from the very moment he had fully sensed the Holy Power emanating from that spear.

His actions, the sudden surge of power in his body, and everything else that had occurred were entirely beyond his conscious awareness.

That was why, as soon as he had recovered, the first thing he did was to leave his castle and, in the area to the right of the castle, where one of the lower paths led down to the lake, draw the spear from his spirit.

He was gripping the Spear of Dawn tightly.

"What?" he couldn’t help but ask.

The sensation in his hand was very strange.

At first, when Dean held this spear, he’d felt as though he were holding a weapon. Well, of course that was quite normal; after all, it really was a weapon.

Still, what was happening now was quite different.

"Haa... huff..."

Dean could almost hear the spear in his hand breathing. It wasn’t just a sensation he was feeling. Dean could actually hear the sound of it breathing in and out.

A quiet breath, an exhale.

He didn’t understand what was happening, but perhaps instinctively, his own breath had begun to synchronise with that of the Spear of Dawn, at the same time, in the same way.

When he did so, he became aware of the change within himself.

As Dean’s breath gradually synchronised with that of the spear in his hand, the landscape around him began to change.

Well, calling it a complete transformation wouldn’t really make sense.

To put it simply, his surroundings had become clearer. Dean was in a state where he could make out even the smallest details, and frankly, it was a dreadful feeling for him.

The cool breeze hitting his body had literally awakened every sensation in his body, whilst the voices of the servants rising from within the castle had practically pierced his ears.

His breathing had instantly become impatient and ragged, and with that, everything had come crashing down.

When that clarity around him vanished in an instant, Dean had smiled.

As he looked carefully at the spear in his hand, the only thing he could think of was that this spear, the Spear of Dawn, was, in every sense, a living thing.

The phrase [The weapon has accepted you] kept spinning round and round in his mind.

A spear capable of piercing through the gods had accepted Dean.

Perhaps there was a reason for his sudden surge in power. It might not have been simply a matter of drawing in the Holy Power that was radiating out directly.

Perhaps the Spear of Dawn had been trying to strengthen Dean, whom it had already accepted, enough for him to be able to wield it.

Dean’s ridiculous movements, his missteps despite swinging the spear in the name of taking a life, his inability to use his body properly, and many other such things, might have had a negative effect on the Spear of Dawn.

This, in turn, brought something to light.

On that day, at the height of the battle, the Spear of Dawn had effectively taken control of Dean’s body.

It had done so to prevent him from dying, but one could still say that was what had happened.

Of course, this was merely a possibility.

The reason for Dean’s increased strength might well have been his successive exposure to large amounts of Holy Power.

Who could say?

Still, after all that, there was one certain truth.

Dean had grown stronger.

He hadn’t suddenly become a god or goddess, nor had he even come close to the power of a supreme angel.

Yet he had grown stronger.

He had grown strong enough to understand which path to follow the moment he grasped the spear.

He had grown strong enough to recognise how the battle scenarios he could imagine would play out, and to understand what he needed to do in battle.

He had become even stronger than Percival, who was under his command.

Of course, Percival still had the potential to defeat him through sheer experience alone, but that was indeed the case.

Dean was pleased with this development.

Cosmic Terror had not presented him with another dungeon.

This was a sign that he could rest as much as possible whilst continuing to develop.

"Percival," Dean said suddenly. He had summoned his ghost servant from the depths of his soul.

The moment Percival emerged, he was on his knees, head bowed.

When Dean saw this, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "Calm down."

"Your orders, my lord?" Percival asked immediately.

Dean responded to this question with a smile, then finally removed the mask from his face.

As he removed the mask, he could feel the breeze hitting his face; he stowed the mask away in his inventory and then commanded, "You will train with me until I faint."

To be perfectly honest, Percival did not want to carry out this order, but as a Ghost-Summon, as a servant, it was hardly possible for him to disobey his master’s commands.

So he asked:

"Is this... a firm order, my lord?"

When Dean heard this question, he chuckled and replied, "Yes."

Percival took a small breath at that moment, then stood up and took a few steps back.

Instantly, he drew his sword from the depths of his soul and took up a fighting stance.

When Dean saw this, he too took a few steps back and stood in a fighting stance.

This was the only opening Dean needed to close right now.

He had to get used to fighting.

He knew Percival wouldn’t launch any lethal attacks against him, yet this was precisely the course he had to take.

Dean had to close that gap.

For the sake of his future.

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